Harry Potter and the Slayers
by enygma999
Summary: After Voldemort's return at the end of Goblet of Fire, Dumbledore seeks the aid of the Watcher's Council. More information in the foreword.
1. Foreword

Harry Potter and the Slayers

Foreword

This is a Buffy the Vampire Slayer – Harry Potter crossover, set after the events of Buffy Season 7 and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I know the years are completely wrong, so I've changed all the dates so that the story starts in 2005, around July sometime. Feel free to criticise this or anything else, but helpful tips and pointers are appreciated, especially where I've made a mistake. Read, review, and, of course, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** If you recognise it, it's probably not mine, so don't be an idiot and sue me. It's not worth it anyway. I wish I had thought of Harry Potter, but Rowling beat me to it. Likewise with Joss Whedon's Buffy. The only things I lay claim to are the concepts of Eternity and the Eternals.


	2. Assistance

Chapter One: Assistance

In the City of the Angels, a scene that's not so angelic - four demons, vampires to be precise, chased an 18-year-old girl into an alleyway behind a club. However, as soon as they were out of sight of any of the other humans in the area, the brunette stopped her running and turned to face her pursuers with a wicked grin on her face. Taken aback, the demons paused in their tracks.

One, bolder than the others, stepped forward. "Come on, girlie, don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"Ok," she shrugged, and with a wave of her hand a portal opened beneath his feet. A brief scream was all he managed before he had disappeared and the portal collapsed. The other vampires looked at her with a new fear, but saw that the creation of the portal had cost her a lot of energy. However, despite her exhaustion, she was still smiling. "So, who's next?"

The only female in the group raised an eyebrow. "You're exhausted, witch. What're you going to do?"

"Not her. Us," said a predatory voice behind them, and the three vampires spun around to face the two women standing in the mouth of the alley.

"Slayers!" hissed the female vampire, her eyes widening in fear before a stake pierced her heart and she collapsed in a pile of dust. Less than ten seconds later, both of her associates had joined her.

Faith dusted her hands off and tucked her stake back into the back of her leather pants. "Pfft. Newbs. Too easy, huh B?" She looked at her diminutive blonde companion, who was leaning over the teenager to give her a supporting arm to lean on.

"Yeah. Couldn't you find us a real challenge, Dawn? And where'd you send the other one?"

"Hey, it's not my fault! They were the first bozos to take the bait and besides, you two are way too good for your own…good. Hmm, that was kind of lame… Anyway, as for the other idiot, he went to nice, sunny France." Dawn smiled weakly, and then fainted in her older sister's arms.

Buffy gaped down at her burden, and then shook her roughly. "Oh no you don't, Dawnie! You can't faint just when I'm about to have a go at you!" But the brunette was completely unresponsive, so Buffy cradled her in her arms and walked out of the alley with the dark Slayer at her side. "Willow told her to be careful with her new abilities, but _no_, she has to go and send some damn vampire to France just because it's daytime there." She rolled her eyes and looked at her partner for sympathy.

"Hey, don't look at me, B. I know jack about these new powers she's getting from being the Key. Besides, if little D wants to do something, she's like you; you can't stop her no matter how hard you try, and I say 'Let her learn.'"

Buffy glared at her. "Traitor. Oh well, back to headquarters, I suppose."

* * *

Half an hour and six dusted vampires later, the two senior Slayers walked past the sign for The Council and entered the brand new Watchers' Council compound. A light tingling sensation crept over their skin, the residue of a spell from Willow and Giles designed to keep the campus safe and secure so that the Slayers could train without feeling threatened by demons and enemies. However, they both recognised the sounds of a security patrol of younger Slayers shadowing their movements in the night, and with a grin at her fair-haired counterpart, Faith ran off across the lawns to test the Slayerettes, while Buffy carefully carried Dawn to the infirmary and the waiting Willow.

The redhead looked down at the teen draped across Buffy's arms and smirked. "Let me guess, she 'ported some poor demon onto the sunny side of the planet?"

With a roll of her eyes, the blonde dumped her sister on to one of the beds arrayed around the room. "Uh huh. When she wakes up, she's gonna get _such_ a talking to. Talking of which…" She eyed her friend and raised an eyebrow. "Mind waking her up with that Wicca thing you do?"

However, as Willow raised a hand to Dawn's forehead, a cough from the doorway interrupted her concentration. Both young women turned to regard the figure standing in the doorway, his white hair and beard so long they were tucked into the belt of his purple robes. "That would not be very beneficial to the Key's health, nor yours, Miss Rosenberg."

Buffy's puzzled look turned instantly to a frown upon hearing her little sister referred to as 'The Key', no matter how accurate that description may be. "And how would you know that, Gandalf? More to the point, who are you, where did you come from and what are you doing in my compound?"

"His name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, he came from across the pond and he's here to ask for our help," said Giles, walking in behind the newcomer and moving to stand over Dawn's bed, followed by Xander Harris, the resident carpenter and handyman at the Council.

Willow eyed Dumbledore warily, but placed a restraining hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Hogwarts as in the school?" At Dumbledore's nod, Willow smiled and squeezed her friend's shoulder. "I've heard of Professor Dumbledore, Buffy, when I was in England with the coven. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has a very good reputation thanks to the headmaster here."

"I'm happy to hear you say so, Miss Rosenberg. It is for the safety of the students at Hogwarts that I have come here today to request your assistance. I have briefed Rupert here on the situation in England, and he has given his consent for me to present you with my offer."

"What offer?" asked Faith, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe and twirling a stake between her fingers. She raised an eyebrow at Buffy, who shook her head slightly. With a sigh, the dark Slayer replaced the stake in the waistline of her pants.

Giles motioned her into the room as Dumbledore waved a wooden wand, conjuring six comfy-looking armchairs to the side of Dawn's bed. "Everybody have a seat while the professor explains what his plans are."

When everyone was settled, Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of him and looked over his half-moon glasses at his audience. "I will start at the beginning. Several years ago, a wizard by the name of Tom Riddle went to many lengths and extremes to gain power and immortality. Calling himself Lord Voldemort, he gathered followers to his cause of purifying the Wizarding world. He called them Death Eaters, and they terrorised the witches and wizards of Great Britain for many years. Then, almost 14 years ago, Voldemort tried to kill a baby boy called Harry Potter. Having murdered his parents, Voldemort turned his wand on young Harry, but his mother's sacrifice caused the curse to rebound from Harry back to Voldemort. Ripped from his body, he fled. Many in Wizarding Britain believed Voldemort dead, and praised Harry as a hero, the Boy-Who-Lived. However, a month ago Voldemort returned in secret.

"Not wanting to believe the terror they knew has returned, the government has refused to listen to Harry and I, so I must work in secret, behind the scenes, to stop Voldemort causing too much damage before his return can be revealed. Thus I come to you for aid." Dumbledore sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing them wearily before he continued. "Long ago, there existed an alliance between the three worlds of magic and the Muggles."

Xander blinked. "Muggles?"

"Non-magic folk. Like you, Xand'," explained Willow, before motioning for Professor Dumbledore to continue.

"As I was saying, the Muggles, Watchers, wizards and Eternals agreed to leave each other to their own devices, allowing the Watchers and Slayers to deal with demons, the wizards and Muggles to police their own affairs and the Eternals to look after the whole of reality. However, this agreement has been largely forgotten over time, but I could use some allies who are politically untouchable in Britain and have diplomatic immunity from certain laws. As representatives of the Watchers' Council, you have such immunity in the Wizarding world, therefore I wish to offer four of you teaching jobs at Hogwarts in exchange for tuition for Dawn and Willow in their powers and a magical replacement eye for Mr Harris. And, of course, you can then help us in our fight against Lord Voldemort."

Faith raised a sceptical eyebrow. "You want us to teach?" she said in a voice that clearly implied that he was mad.

"Oh yes. You and Miss Summers, as the two senior Slayers, are ideal candidates to teach a new course of Muggle Combat Techniques at Hogwarts. I also plan to start a Wicca Studies course, which I would be happy for Miss Rosenberg to teach, and I need a new teacher for Muggle Studies," Dumbledore explained, looking at Xander as he did so. "So, do you consent to help me?"

"When do we leave?" asked a weak voice from the bed, and everybody looked up at Dawn.

Buffy smiled. "Nice try, young lady, but you've still got a huge rant coming your way when you're feeling better. As for if and when we leave, it's up to Faith, Xander and Willow as to whether they want to go and if Xander and Willow want to take Professor Dumbledore up on his offer." As she said it, she looked at her friends. Willow's eyes were sparkling at the very thought of the opportunity before her, Faith looked nonchalant and uncaring, while Xander was looking unsure. "Xander?"

He looked up at her and paused a moment before he answered. "It would be nice to have a new eye, but can we really leave everyone here on their own?"

Giles snorted. "Thank you for your concern, Xander, but the younger Slayers and I are more than capable of handling ourselves over here. Plus, Albus has agreed to provide all four of you with emergency Portkeys so that, should any of you truly be needed (which I doubt), you can be called upon and be here in a second."

When Xander smiled at this, Dawn smirked and looked triumphantly at Buffy. "So, when do we leave?"


	3. The Boy Who Lived

Chapter Two: The Boy Who Lived

Thanks to the freakily hot and muggy summer that had descended on England, Privet Drive was warm and quiet in the afternoon heat, just as Harry Potter liked it. Lying in the rose bed under his aunt and uncle's front window, he didn't appreciate people and cars making a lot of noise as he tried to listen to the six o'clock news inside.

"Seen the boy around today, Petunia?" he heard Uncle Vernon ask as he too waited for the news.

"No. Why?" his aunt snapped in reply, obviously not happy discussing her delinquent and messy nephew.

"He's been acting stranger than normal after coming back from that freakish school of his. Wanting to watch the news, of all things. Dudders has never wanted to watch the news in his life. Quite unnatural for a boy his age to want to, as far as I'm concerned. I mean, what's he up to? All he does is mope around in his room all day and then try to watch the news. Freaky, it is."

Harry rolled his eyes at his uncle's muttering, which was thankfully cut off by the start of the news on the TV. However, today, like every other day, brought no new items of interest that could have anything to do with activities on Lord Voldemort's part. When the local news started half an hour later, Harry knew there was no point in lying there any more. With a sigh, he crawled out from under the window and stood up out of sight of the Dursleys in their living room. Then, his wand tucked safely into his belt, he went for a walk.

His distracted footsteps took him to the local park, where he sat down on the only swing his cousin Dudley and his gang hadn't vandalised yet. _'Why has nothing happened yet?'_ he thought to himself, absently swinging backwards and forwards. _'Why did Voldemort come back, kill Cedric and try to kill me, only to remain completely silent for over a month?'_ Of course, this wasn't the first time he'd thought about this. He'd even sent letters to his friends asking these very same questions, but all he'd received in reply were cryptic hints that Ron and Hermione were together with the Weasleys somewhere and that he shouldn't be so open in his letters. Along with the advice to sit tight, behave and wait for them to arrange for his removal from the Dursleys', this had only served to annoy Harry mightily.

He was brought roughly from his musings by the sound a bicycle being wheeled along the path past the swings. Harry's eyes snapped open and he glared in the direction of Dudley and his friends, but none of them seemed to notice that they were being overheard as they strolled casually home. As soon as they had rounded the corner, Harry got up and began to follow; as far as the Dursleys were concerned, arriving home even a second after Dudley was too late. Therefore, when Piers Polkiss and the others left Dudley at a shortcut back to Privet Drive, Harry quickly jogged to catch Dudley up at the alleyway. "Dudley!"

The bigger boy spun around and glared as Harry caught up. "What do you want?" he asked menacingly. Dudley had filled out over the last year as he had taken up, as Uncle Vernon called it, 'the ancient and noble sport of boxing', and so the clenching of his fists would have caused most of the neighbourhood kids to back off and surrender their pocket money (as they had been doing all summer). However, to Harry it was just a harmless gesture, as he knew that he could duck a swing from Dudley as long as he didn't have his gang to back him up.

"Just thought you'd like some company. Dark evening like this, a little boy like you could come to harm, out on his own."

"What're you talking about? 'Dark evening like this…'" But as he spoke, Dudley seemed to realise the truth; the twilight that normally existed early on a summer evening had completely disappeared. Along with the stars and the moon, every light source the boys could think of had disappeared from the alleyway. "What're you doin'? You can't do magic in the summer. That freak school will expel you!"

Harry looked quickly from one end of the alley to the other, realising that he could no longer see more than a metre away and even that was disappearing fast. "It's not me, Dud."

But Dudley wasn't listening. "Dad'll throw you out of the house!"

"Dudley, calm down. I said it's not me. It's…" And then it dawned on him; he could hear a faint screaming in the back of his mind, and his breath fogged the air in front of his face just as the last of the light disappeared. "Dementors!" he realised, pulling his wand from his belt and pointing it into the blackness in front of him. "Dudley, clamp your mouth shut. No matter what happens, do not open your mouth. Don't let them kiss you."

But his desperate advice fell on deaf ears; Dudley had collapsed to the ground, his hands over his ears and a small whimper escaping his lips. Harry sighed and pointed his wand at the spot where he could hear something drawing a rattling breath. "_Expecto patronum!_" he cried. The silver stag burst from the end of his wand and charged at the Dementor before returning to Harry and dispatching one at the other end of the alley. Smiling, Harry waved at the Patronus as it began to dissipate. "Thanks, Dad."

Looking down at Dudley, he began to put his wand back in his belt when he heard hurried footsteps approaching the alley. He spun around and looked straight into the terrified face of Arabella Figg, his batty old neighbour. "Dementors in Little Whinging!" she shrieked. "I am going to _kill_ Mundungus Fletcher when I get my hands on him!"

Stunned that she should even know what a Dementor was, Harry froze and stared at her. "Huh?"

"Dementors, boy, Dementors! Don't look at me like you don't know what they are. You should know, of all people." She rolled her eyes at him, and then knelt down beside Dudley, who was just now becoming coherent.

Harry shook his head to recover from his shock and helped her pull Dudley onto his feet. When the larger boy swayed dangerously, Harry tucked his wand more securely into his belt and then swung Dudley's arm over his shoulders. "Of course I know what they are. Question is, how do you?"

Mrs Figg began shuffling off towards Privet Drive, her carpet slippers scuffling along the pavement. "I'm a Squib, so get your wand back out. If there are more of them about I'll be about as useful as a chocolate kettle. Oh, Mundungus Fletcher just wait until I get my hands on you!"

At the sound of his name, a small, foul-smelling man appeared in front of her and promptly fell over. He reached into his mouldy brown coat and pulled out a bottle, from which he took a long swig. "Ah, Figgy! Good t' see you, old girl! Whassup?"

Mrs Figg's face immediately became dark and stormy. "What's up? WHAT'S UP? I'll tell you what's up! Dementors! On your watch! On the day you decided to shirk your duties and go to the local boozer! Harry's had to do magic, you imbecile! So get your drunken arse over to Hogwarts and alert Dumbledore! Go!"

Desperately batting away the bag of cat food that Mrs Figg was hitting him with, Mundungus looked up at Harry, blinked, and was gone. Stunned, Harry turned to Mrs Figg. "Who was that?"

"The man who was supposed to be guarding you today, the lazy swine. Ah, here we are." She looked at the gate of number four and waved Harry towards it. "Get the both of you inside and stay there. I've got to go home and await orders." And with that, she was gone.

Harry stared after her for a second before he too moved. He shifted Dudley's weight higher up onto his shoulder and turned down the front garden path to Number 4. At the door, he knocked and stepped back to allow Dudley to lean weakly against the doorframe. The door opened a moment later, light spilling from the hall out into the dark street.

"Duddikins!" gasped Aunt Petunia when she saw the sweaty and unhealthy pallor of her son's face. "What happened to you?" And she grabbed him by the shoulders and gently hustled him into the kitchen, leaving Harry to quickly dart into the hall before she could slam the door in his face. Hoping to avoid any unpleasantness if he was connected to Dudley's condition, Harry quietly made for the stairs. However, his hopes were dashed when his Aunt requested an explanation from Dudley and all the fear-stricken boy could mutter was one weak word.

"Him."

Harry winced as the enormous figure of Uncle Vernon leant out of the kitchen doorway. "Boy! Get in here and fix whatever you've done to my son!"

"It wasn't me," he explained as he joined his relatives around the kitchen table. "It was a pair of Dementors. They have a nasty effect on people and feed on your happiness. Give him some chocolate and he'll be fine."

Looking at the way his uncle was turning purple, this explanation wasn't enough for him. However, his eruption was cut short by a grey owl swooping in through the open kitchen window and dropping a letter on Harry's head before quickly flying out again. "Bloody owls!" screamed the outraged man as he stormed over to the window and yanked it shut. When he turned back to the room, Harry was already reading the letter from the Ministry of Magic. He looked up from the end of the letter, threw it to the floor and drew his wand. "What's the letter about boy? And put that away before someone sees!"

"The ministry's expelled me for using a spell to get rid of those Dementors. They're coming for my wand. Not that I intend to be here when they arrive." Harry turned to leave, but at that moment another owl crashed into the window. Reacting purely from habit, Harry went to the window, opened it and retrieved the unconscious form from the windowsill. It was Errol, the Weasley family owl, with a short scribbled note clutched tightly in his beak. With a sigh, he placed the pathetic ball of feathers on the draining board and read Mr Weasley's frantic scrawl.

_Harry,_

_Do not surrender your wand! Albus has arrived here at the Ministry and is trying to sort everything out, but somebody is desperate for your blood; a team has already been dispatched to Privet Drive. They will be there within moments, but you must stay there according to Dumbledore. Do not leave, but do not surrender! Assistance is on the way._

_Arthur Weasley_

With a frown, Harry looked up at the front door just as there was a knock on it. "Damn!" he muttered under his breath, and grabbed his uncle's shoulder as he made to open it. "No, it's a team of wizards!" he said, hoping he could appeal to Vernon's hatred of all things magical to stop him letting them in.

Uncle Vernon turned to him with a maniacal grin. "Yes, but they're after _you_." And with that, he wrenched his shoulder from Harry's shocked grasp and turned to head into the hall...

...Only to be stopped by a man blocking the doorway, leaning on the quarterstaff in his left hand. Looking around 18 years old, the blonde turned a pair of startling blue eyes towards Vernon Dursley and shook his head. Then he straightened and turned on the heel of his boot, his leather duster swinging around his black trousers and T-shirt and revealing four pistols, one on each hip and under each arm, and faced the front door. Slung across his back from his left shoulder to his right hip was a sniper rifle, while a katanna hung from his right shoulder to his left hip. "Who's there?" the stranger asked the front door in a voice that sounded both kind and deadly at the same time.

"Magical law enforcement! Open up, Mr. Potter. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

With a smile, the stranger reached across his body for the gun on his left hip and pointed it at the door with his right hand. "Wrong answer. _Reducto!_" And he pulled the trigger. To Harry's astonishment, as he stood paralysed with shock in the kitchen, the _reducto_ curse flew from the barrel of the semi-automatic pistol and hit the front door, blowing it clean off its hinges and throwing the two wizards outside to the floor under a hail of splinters. Holstering the pistol, the young man stepped forward and stood in the now empty doorway, looking down on the two men as they recovered their senses. "My name is Michael Gabriel, representative of the Council of Elders, envoy of Eternity and guardian of reality, and this boy is under my protection. Leave now before you do something you'll regret."

The more alert of the two was able to see from his stance that this was a kind offer, not a declaration of combat, but his partner was on his feet before he could stop him, his wand pointed at Michael's head. "Is that a threat?" asked the slightly dazed MLE.

Less than a second later, he fell to the ground again, his wand nailed through his right hand and into the garden soil. Over his screams, Michael bent down and offered his hand to the other magical law enforcer. "Your friend is relatively uninjured and considerably luckier than he thinks. Had I been slower, my sister would have buried a knife between his ribs." And he nodded towards a black-haired young woman standing in the garden gate, similarly dressed to her brother but carrying a bow and quiver instead of a quarterstaff, a hunter's crossbow instead of the sniper rifle and a pair of sharpened three-pronged sai daggers instead of pistols. She also had several slim silver throwing knives in a pair of straps around each thigh below the daggers tucked into her belt, one of which she held in a throwing motion over her right shoulder. She raised an eyebrow at Michael, but when he shook his head she relaxed and sheathed the knife.

Turning back to the upright MLE, Michael smiled and motioned towards his sister, who stepped out of the way. "You and your partner will be able to Disapparate from the road. I suggest you check the laws you're being ordered to enforce, next time; the ministry cannot expel a Hogwarts pupil, and you are not allowed to snap a suspect's wand, merely confiscate it until trial. Since Harry has not had a trial and used the Patronus charm to defend himself, I suggest you find someone else to bother." He snapped his fingers and the wand flew from the prone enforcer's hand and into his own. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly." The enforcer accepted his partner's wand, cast a levitation charm on the unconscious man (he had fainted from the pain) and walked towards the gate. As soon as he was gone, Michael spun around and caught the letter that was falling from the sky behind him.

"Here, Harry. I believe this excuses you, probably until a hearing because someone at the ministry really hates you at the moment for some reason. We will have you out of here shortly. Until then…" At this, he turned to Vernon Dursley, who was standing in the ruined front doorway with his hand gripping the back of Harry's neck. "…I suggest everybody try to get along nicely, or at least civilly. My sister and I would hate to have to come here to sort out any fights or to make sure that Harry was allowed to stay." And with that, he pointed his pistol once again at the doorframe, but this time cast a simple _reparo_ charm. The splinters leapt up from where they'd landed and formed back into the front door, but not before Vernon caught sight of the black-clad young woman playfully throwing a dagger at his face. A moment after the door was repaired there was a solid-sounding thunk from the other side, and then the sound of someone wrenching the dagger from the door. "Oh please, Mary. I was trying to be civil and you have to go and scare him into behaving. What am I going to do with you?"

As the conversation between the twin siblings faded into the distance, Vernon looked up the stairs just in time to see his nephew retreating into his room. _Well,_ he thought. _They haven't frightened me. Not at all. He's going, if he's going to attract violent characters like that and these dementoids. He's a danger to my family._ Then he cast a nervous glance over his shoulder towards the front door. _Maybe I'll give him just one more chance, all the same. Not that they scared me at all._


	4. Flight from the Dursleys'

Chapter Three: Flight from the Dursleys'

Almost a week later, Harry lay on his bed at two o'clock in the morning, staring up at a patch of peeling paint on the ceiling. He'd sent Hedwig to Hermione, Ron and Sirius immediately after the attack of the Dementors, demanding answers to questions such as "_How come nobody told me I was being guarded?_" and "_When the hell am I getting out of here?_" His pet owl had yet to return, though, and he had to assume that this was because she was pecking the three recipients for decent length replies as per his instructions. Without any letters to read, he was bored and getting steadily angrier over his friends' lack of information. What did they think? That he wasn't responsible enough to know anything? That he didn't deserve to have fun with them, wherever they were together, since he had gotten Cedric Diggory killed at the end of the Triwizard Tournament? Maybe that was it; they were afraid that one of them would be next. Harry snorted in disgust at that thought; Ron and Hermione wouldn't do that to him.

Would they?

As he lay in the moonless darkness, the breeze from his open window playing with his messy black hair, a subtle shift in the air around him made him sit up ramrod straight, instantly alert; after years of living at Number 4, he knew how to tell when the back door was opened. Straining his ears, he just made out the sound of the lock clicking shut down stairs, and his eyes widened. Someone was downstairs, while all the Dursleys were asleep.

Grabbing his wand from under his pillow where he'd kept it since Voldemort's return, he crept silently from his bed to the door, and opened it just a crack. Behind him, he failed to notice a figure detach itself from the shadows and lean over him, peering out the crack in the doorway with him. "What're we looking for Harry?" she whispered, and stepped quickly backwards as he jumped nearly a foot in the air and whirled around, wand pointed at her heart. "Ah, so someone has taught you at least a little then. Good reactions by the way." She reached over his shoulder and flicked on the light, bathing them both in yellow electric light.

Blinking away the brightness, Harry stared at the 18-year-old girl before him. "Hey, I recognise you. You're that woman from the night the Dementors attacked."

The teenager, standing in her usual costume of black T-shirt, black leather trousers, jacket and boots with her array of weaponry hung around her body, smiled at the recognition and gently placed her hand on his wand, forcing it down away from her heart. "Yes, I am. The name's Mary, but unlike my brother I don't tell everyone I meet, or intimidate, my full set of titles. I just say I'm an Eternal and have done with it. Now put that wand away, since I'm a friend and you couldn't kill me anyway."

"Could too," Harry muttered sulkily, nonetheless complying with her instruction.

Mary, now standing across the room and examining the clutter of papers on his small, rickety wooden desk, looked over her shoulder with a look of pity. "Sometimes I forget that you are not as old as your experiences would lead one to believe, nor are you as knowledgeable of the world as a Wizarding child should be. I will explain later, but for now just trust me when I say you cannot kill me, no matter how good we both may be. It simply is not possible." When she saw that his anger at being underestimated had been replaced with curiosity for her supposed immortality, she turned back to the desk. "Now I suggest you pack quickly and quietly. Michael is doing one final sweep of the neighbourhood to make sure no-one, friend or foe, will see us depart, and the others will be here in ten minutes. Try not to wake your relatives while I go and set up a few surprises for them to find in the morning." And with that she reached under the bed, pulled up a floorboard and retrieved Harry's stash of prank materials.

Harry's jaw dropped to the floor. "How did you know that was there? You lot aren't spying on me, are you?"

As she left, Mary chuckled. "No, we're just guarding you. I know because of the minor telepathy I possess. When I told you to pack, your mind was practically screaming that you would be leaving without using these on the Dursleys. It's very hard for a telepath to ignore someone else's mind shouting like that. Not to mention I skimmed your thoughts briefly to ensure you were actually Harry Potter." She turned to leave the room, but stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Oh, and a word to the wise; next time someone sneaks up on you and you're alone or on alert, curse first and ask questions later. Even if it's just you Stunning a friend, it's better than being cursed yourself." And with that she quietly shut the door, leaving Harry to pack up all his possessions in slightly less than ten minutes.

Needless to say, ten minutes later Harry was only halfway done. Looking at the remaining items, he sighed and was just about to continue when his door opened again. "So, Mary says you should be almost packed." Harry turned, and saw a woman with shockingly pink hair standing in his doorway, wearing a pair of worn jeans and a Weird Sisters T-shirt. "Mad-Eye said that you'd only gotten halfway though. Looks like he wins. Again. Damn him and his blasted eye." Harry blinked at her, staring at her hair and wondering how Aunt Petunia had not woken up yet with some kind of sixth sense warning of such an abomination in her house. Following his gaze, she smiled and ran a hand through her hair. "Like the colour? Or would you prefer blue?" And before his very eyes, she scrunched up her face and her hair changed to a startling electric blue.

"How did you do that?" he asked over his shoulder as he snapped out of his stupor and returned to packing.

"I'm a metamorphmagus. Means I can change appearance at will. My name's Tonks, by the way." She frowned at his half-packed trunk and waved her wand, making the rest of his possessions fly in from all over the room, landing in a heap in the trunk before the lid slammed shut. "There, much better. Shall we go?" And, levitating his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage, she escorted Harry down the stairs and into the kitchen, where four other people were waiting; the siblings Mary and Michael Gabriel, Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin. Both wizards held broomsticks in their hands, and another one was leaning against the kitchen counter waiting for Tonks.

Harry smiled at Remus when he saw him, but was quickly distracted by Mad-Eye. The grizzled old ex-Auror was holding up a glass of water to his one good eye, and swirling a large blue magical eye in the water. Catching Harry's gaze as he put the eye back in, he smirked and threw the glass haphazardly over his shoulder, where it was caught by some invisible force and placed gently and soundlessly on the draining board by the sink. "Damn thing keeps sticking since that scum wore it last year. Well, ready to go, Potter? Got your broom? Got your wand?" He tapped the trunk and cage with his wand as Harry held up the items in question, shrinking the bulky objects to a size where Harry could easily place them both in a backpack Remus threw at him. Then the party of six walked out of the backdoor as quietly as possible and stood in a circle, Remus and Moody watching the sky while hovering just off the ground on their broomsticks, with Harry and Tonks copying them but looking around at ground level.

Harry's eyes fell on the two Eternals, who were merely standing at the back of the group with their eyes closed. "Where are your broomsticks?" he asked, puzzled as to how they would be coming with them if they couldn't fly.

Michael's eyes opened and he looked at him as Mary turned her back to everyone else and began taking off her jacket. "There are other ways to fly than with a broomstick." He motioned to Mary, who spread her arms out to the side. As she did so, a pair of glowing black leathery wings grew out of her back, poking through holes cut between the shoulder blades of her black T-shirt and spreading to a good 18 feet or so. "We use wings." He said, removing his leather duster to reveal a pair of white-feathered wings growing from holes in the back of his own T-shirt. Folding both his sister's and his own jacket up, he threw them to Harry, who sensibly tucked them into his backpack. Just as he pulled the zipper shut, red sparks flared in the sky where Remus and Moody were watching. "That's the signal. You best concentrate on your flying Harry. It's a long way to headquarters." And with those words, Michael, Mary and Harry leapt into the sky, quickly following the other three up into the darkness.


End file.
